Rendezvous at Kelly Park

It was an event that rivaled any of the ‘Chelsea Chicks’ get-togethers - either in NYC or Florida. It was something that had not been seen in the corridor between West 16^th and 17^th Streets in over 40 years. And, as one woman later remarked, it was a rarity to see six straight men together in Chelsea.

The Event:  On Saturday, April 16^th, a week before the St. Bernard’s reunion, Bill Smith, Paul Sirotto, Jim Mullin (each from 15^th Street), Juan Espada, myself ( Pat Crowley, originally from 16^th Street, pre-Fulton Houses) and Genie DeFino (from 17^th Street) met at Kelly Park to begin a walking tour of our old stomping grounds that culminated with lunch at The Chelsea Brewery in Chelsea Piers.  From this day on, we will refer to ourselves as the ‘Kelly Park Six’.

To refer to Kelly Park as a playground is to do it an injustice.  Nestled between the 300 blocks of 16^th and 17^th Streets, this site really was the first multi-sport and recreation complex.  And, it was free!

All six of us went to St. Bernard’s School on West 13^th Street and, every day after school, as well as all day on weekends, holidays, and summer vacations, we spent our recreation time at Kelly Park. Back then, it was rather routine to play 4-5 different sports/games on the same day. 

The Kelly Park Six: Of all the things we had in common growing up, the one thing that united us was the camaraderie we honed on the concrete playing fields of Kelly Park.  I emphasize concrete playing fields because I had always told my children and their friends about a guy, Genie DeFino, who would make diving catches on the concrete at Kelly Park.

Tony the Parkman:  When one reminisces about the adults who influenced our early lives, Tony Russo was more than a NYC Parks Department employee; he was a surrogate parent, a mentor, a coach and the boss of Kelly Park. During the day, while we were in school, he hosted all of the ‘older guys’ who caught a day or two on the docks and played cards the rest of the week in the park house. But, come 3:30 PM, Tony became the director of an ‘unofficial’ after school program that included hundreds of kids of all ages playing sports and games in this little square that was no bigger than 2 acres.

The Park House: This structure was the nerve center of one of the most comprehensive recreational programs ever founded.  First, it was where ‘Tony the Parkman’ held court every day.  Second, it was that structure that divided Kelly Park into two sections.  The 16^th Street section was dedicated to sports such as softball, ‘off-the wall’ stick ball, running bases, ‘3 flies you’re up’ , hand ball, box ball, punch ball, ‘pitcher-batter’, roller hockey, and football.  It was also the arena for playing rough style ‘ring-a-leerio’, ‘Johnny Ride the Pony’ and ball tag.  The 17^th Street section included swings, monkey bars, slides and a big square that was a combination sprinkler pool and basketball courts. This big square was enclosed by a 4 ½ foot iron fence that we all used to walk tight-rope style. In the square, just beneath the basketball rim was a concrete curb that was perfect for the game ‘off-the-point”, which, of course, featured the famous ‘spauldeen’ (manufactured by Spaulding).

‘Spauldeen’:  No matter how you spell it, this sporting good was as important to our lives then as any thing has or will ever be. Every kid in the neighborhood had one stuffed into his or her pocket because it had multiple uses (‘off-the-point’, stick ball, hand ball, ball tag, jacks, etc.). Today’s version of the little pink rubber ball is not the same. Nevertheless, I  produced one and had each of the Kelly Park Six sign it before we left the park.

Climbing: Honing this skill was a requirement for two reasons.   One, we hit many balls onto the park house roof. Your early manhood was also tested when you had to shinny up the drain pipe and climb onto the park house roof.  Once there, it was like being on the ramparts of a well-built castle. From there, one could view the entire park (and beyond, into 16^th and 17^th Streets).  When we had snow ball fights, it was difficult climbing with galoshes and gloves, but well worth the strategic advantage. The second major obstacle was the forty-foot wall that ran from left field to center field of our baseball ‘diamond’.  This wall had a 6-foot cyclone fence on top of it.  When we hit a ball ‘out of the park’, we had to climb the fence behind the wall to get into the yards behind it. Both the park house and the wall were easily seen from the upper level apartments next to the park. So, one had to be careful that Mrs. Crowley or Mrs. Espada or Mrs. McGee didn’t see one of us climbing. In those days, my mother would always yell that I might rip my pants. Apparently, a broken neck was not as big a deal. And finally, climbing skills in general were required to negotiate the steel frame on which the swings were suspended. For some reason, we felt compelled to climb on this structure for no strategic or tactical advantage; perhaps we impressed the girls.   I remember that a ‘tom-girl’ named Gail gave me my first real kiss on the swing.

The Wall:  Besides serving as our left and center field boundary, the wall was the surface on which we played ‘off-the-wall’ stick ball and hand ball. In fact, the section in deep center field was also bounded by the western side of the park house, forming a two-wall hand ball court that saw some great adult handballers plying their skills on weekends.  Charlie Cooper lived in my building (321 West 16^th Street) and was a highly ranked competitor.

The Teams:  I remember playing on the Red Devils and the Aces (captained by John Lynch from 15^th Street).  We would go to Gems on 14^th Street and buy iron-on letters and numbers that our mothers would iron onto a white tee shirt. When John started the Aces, our uniform costs were significantly lower because we only had to buy four letters. One inch letters were 10 cents each; a 6-inch number was 25 cents.  We all wanted a single digit uniform number!

Other Memories: Tom ‘Satch’ Sanders was a summer ‘parkee’ while he was in college at NYU. Of course, he is more well-known as a star with the Boston Celtics.  Tom taught us to shoot free throws and I still use the technique that I learned from him.  The ‘Watermelon Man’ always parked his truck outside of one of the entrances to Kelly Park; you could hear his voice blocks away. The rides (e.g., The Whip and the Half Moon) always set-up in front of the 17^th Street entrance. 17^th Street had several candy and grocery stores from which we bought soda and pea shooter beans.

To Juan, Bill, Jim, Paul and Genie: Thanks for a great day at Kelly Park.

Pat Crowley